Host Family

On the bus to meet our host families everyone was pysched, but then we pulled into the school yard where they were waiting for us, and I think it sort of set in what we were getting into and you could tell how nervous everyone was by how quiet it got. So we split up accordingly and went home. Waiting for me was my sister and aunt. They picked up both myself and another pcv (peace corps volunteer). Ok this is complicated so pay attention. Allison’s (other pcv) Mama is my Mama’s daughter – so that makes her my niece. When moving into the families we take on the role of a family member. So I am a son and brother in my house. It is a really nice 2 bedroom apartment. Peace Corp requires certain things from a host family such as a lock on the door, desk and bed for PCV’s this combined with the Kazakh culture makes it common that we have the nicest things in the house which was a little uncomfortable at first, but that goes away as we get more integrated into the family. The first day all I heard was “jea” = EAT and “ish” = DRINK! And all day long that’s all I did. The rest of the time I spent using the few words I knew which were “awesome” “yes” and “thanks” which might have been part of the reason I was roped into drinking distilled goat milk. Other than that, I have no complaints as far as food goes. It is abundant and delicious. Also they are not much of a vodka (which is literally cheaper than water here) drinking family that we were trained to avoid so that was a big relief. One time they even walked into the family room when I was laying on the floor singing some drinking song from Fiddler on the Roof and they thought I was drunk. In terms of what I was expecting my digs here are AMAZING. This dawned on my when I was sitting on my couch flipping between ALF and Russian MTV while being served meal after meal.
My mama is pretty much the archetypal little old grandmother. Our relationship consists of her trying to fatten me up, be more careful when I go out at night, cut my hair, practice my language skills and me playing cards with her and learning flattering phrases in Kazakh for her. I have a 21 year old sister named Anara that is studying to be a teacher. Luckily she speaks a little English so she can help navigate our communication. I also have a little sister named Martina. She is 11 but is too shy to really talk to me. When I ask her things she just giggles, runs out of the room and comes back in bringing me fruit or candy. There is a 10 month old baby next door that is always over too. She LOVES me obviously. This is most apparent when I am holding her for a while and she cries to be held by someone else and then promptly pees on them. Outside of those in my family I have become the leader of a local gang. This responsibility mandates my sitting on a tire with them around me asking me how I am doing, if I like beer, and then showing me pictures of Tupac and Shug Knight on their cell phones.